The Epical Story

The End of Time

The End of TimeThe End of Time by Maria Fokas

 In the midst of night she sleeps.

Her wings fly her over the end of time, a glimpse of light and below, she sees the color white. Slowly, don’t rush it, savor that memory of your first sip. The individual slices of time we are bound to miss. I will remember all of this:

Freshly squeezed orange scent, I crossed off our precious list. Simple chunks of speech, wasted on an empty kiss. Someone take that first step; someone, but  me, I see those words appear, and a tear rolls down my cheek. How strange the ritual of love is. It scars you so deep in the cold of night, and in the day of sunlight, an empty silence where your presence should be. But those past confessions that blind. Enchanting words that mesmerize.

The many smiles I owe to you, the smiles because of you  – and for you.

And as I turn the pages, of the book we did conceive, those unwritten words, a tragedy of love disguised. To think that wings could set me free, when instead, a chain without a key. No one can hurt you if you are free, whispered, the little girl in my dream. I recalled it all – And then, nothing.

Another day like this will come, it is inevitable, I fear it’s done. But it is not the wings that promise freedom, that much I know. And in the ticking towards my end –

somehow, everything turned into nothing. And when she came out of her dream, the intent to change was gone.

For the little girl hiding, in the white houses overlooking the sea, said, No! – I will not change love to suit your needs, if I cannot have all of you then I want nothing from you, and she gave him back the key. And what I believed to be the center of my world, was merely a distraction, the little girl had willed for me.

To accept the alternative, would break me into tiny pieces.

Was it time to say goodbye?

With no heart to love, I would be lost.

What would be the purpose, to live in a world where love is a lie?

That, would be the end of me . . .

© Maria Fokas 2014

Murphy’s Law

Murphy's LawMurphy’s Law by Maria Fokas / Photograph by Martin Hanley

And though it seemed that anything could go wrong,

That everything would go wrong

He looked into my eyes, and claimed he saw lines of red in the brown

He said hazel, I said brown . . .

He counted my smiles, and spoke of inspiration

He asked me; where inspiration comes from

 – No, not from the Gods, I said,

But from a painful longing that cannot be marked

Where touch is absent, and words feel mercy,

And comfort never comes too soon

© Maria Fokas 2014



Desire by Maria Fokas

DESIREDesire must make no sense in the whispers of my lovers

Press your cheek against mine

Let me take pleasure in your thoughts

Share with me your secrets

The ones you’ve never dared to before

While we mingle with your friends

Let me stir the ice in your drink, with my fingertips

In the melody of music,

stroke the back of my neck

And when we sway on the dance floor

Feel my aching need, for your control

In the depths of darkness…

I find comfort in knowing,

you can spin my heart with your desire.

 © Maria Fokas 2014


Dreamcatcher by maria fokasDREAMCATCHER by Maria Fokas –

Handmade, based on a willow hoop, net loosely woven, and decorated with sacred feathers.

I held her in my arms. She was a little girl, not more than five – my little girl; yes, I saw her face, and I think I saw a subtle smile, but I knew she would be leaving me soon. I didn’t have much time and there was so much more to say. She was so young, but I felt she had been waiting for too long. I wanted to tell her how much I love her, but the word love was too weak for this occasion.

Time was running out; when I finally spoke – the words were not of love, but of a promise; a promise that no matter how much time passed, I would one day find her again – a promise that I would never let go, that I would always remember, and then I found myself saying more. That if she stayed I would change – I would stand up for her more, and protect her; no one would ever hurt her again.

And when I lay me down to sleep, I will remember everything  we’ve ever been through – and all the times you made me proud. You were in my best of dreams, and held my hand during my worst nightmares. And when I could not sleep, you told me stories of a sacred bridge, with endless meanings, and made the cold disappear, you spoke of the sun, the moon, and the months, that keep coming back no matter what. You made the many colors across the skies appear, and you gave me hope when I had none. But most of all, you never gave up.

Then, that little girl woke up. I saw her clear brown eyes, and once again, my mind was playing tricks on me, just to catch me by surprise  – 

She smiled, and my heart knew, what my eyes could not see –

© 2014 Maria Fokas



Megalomania MEGALOMANIA by Maria Fokas

Like a dark, tragic novel, she knows her end. Excessively preoccupied with prestige, and vanity. She makes friends easily, but inevitably loses them all. One by one, they turn away, despised by her arrogance.

She claims a sense of entitlement, with her grandiosity behavior. Bears no empathy;  her tears are fake, and her life is synthetic. She speaks of superior accomplishments, in the tales she tells  – and envies those who own successes. But when she speaks kind words, do not be intrigued. Those words are merely her attempt to own you.

She has many fears, but the greatest is rejection. When I look into her eyes, I have no sentiment, am I a monster too.

As a child, her vanity was accepted; so common for the young to behave in a way that gives them the most attention. But past the age of 8, she did not become more realistic. I wonder about her parents. Which traumatic point did they push her passed? Poisonous words that put the blame on her. Did they mold her or destroy her?

A profound sadness fills the room, for a tragedy so deep.

Should I handle this one with the heart…

I do not claim to understand  – what I know to be true.

© 2014 Maria Fokas

Two Strands

Two Strands TWO STRANDS by Maria Fokas

 A molecule encodes the journey.

It functions along side all known forms of life.

From what I recall, he spoke of two.

Did he mean souls? He used simple words. 

As I listened to his story, he described a backbone he had composed.

He claimed of an alternating attachment.

My thoughts ran in opposite directions to each other.

And I wondered how to change the law of anti-parallel worlds.

There must be a way for our souls to merge.

And if they do, how would we know?

Is there a code of love that guides us to the path?

It could be hidden within my cells, I do remember –

But he assured me – it is so unfortunate for memory to have its own set of rules.

So I will never know?  I asked.

Your interactions will guide you between the opposites.

To help control which parts to explore, and which to deny.

Physical laws and theories mean nothing without compassion, he added.

We are Isolated and then discovered.

The structure of all species comprises two.

They chain each other and coil around the same idea.

Is it the solution? I asked.

Solution; there is none as the measured individual  – repeats a small life,

Just give me a sign, I pleaded.

When she fears, it is a single soul, but as a pair she feels complete.

Held tightly together they embrace each other

Two long strands entwined like vines,

Their life repeats – strengthening the backbone,

Which holds the chain together with a ring –

But I do not understand, I said – one strand is opposite from the direction of the other

Do you not feel the two forces? He asked.

I don’t see it, I complained.

Then stop searching with your eyes. He replied.  

If the sequence is the same, there are no concerns.

Will I come to know through the passing of time?

Sense and thought overlap, but eventually you will know the difference.

And what does the truth look like? I asked.

Like a twisted rope. He smiled.

There is positive and negative, but you will have your chance.

How many do I get? I wondered

One in every lifetime. He uttered.

But how will I know?

When you can trust, you will know…

I don’t understand. I said.

You may speak in different tongues, but you will speak the same language –

He said before he disappeared.

© 2014 Maria Fokas All Rights Reserved


Brevity by Maria Fokas

In the brevity of life, we deal with the absurd

Wired through our days, a hope

The breeze and everything that is – I want to be

A hidden myth that love is suspended –

In the unsustainable flaw of time

What dominant species we have become

Loss is inevitably disturbing me

Genuinely unexpected, but no revelation when it comes

It drops into view leaving a mark in its path

What was previously latent is now everywhere to be found

I hear the perfect patterns of your heartbeat

The precision of its rapid increase, as you touch me

Do the stitches in the cloth that keeps you warm

Allege to own the gaps between their breaks?

Is it you or I, responsible for this love I stumbled upon?

But, in the brevity of life  –

The distance between us casts new light

Could it be in the voice, you speak to me?

Could it be in the innocence you gaze at me?

My vision is wide but I cannot see

I merely behold that you believe in me –

My heart wanders in your kindness

As you subtly leave your scars in my mind

In the brevity of life – long days rush on by

Still, my head counts the ticking in disguise

For an epic love on every hour

And when the night lifts –

A secret act is uncovered

And when the night falls

In every dream you are discovered

In the brevity of life

While, memories filled with loss

Never – mind, for it will fade

And a new tomorrow will be discovered

  • Dedication

© 2014 Maria Fokas 


PrometheusPROMETHEUS by Maria Fokas

Don’t turn away from life

I hear the whisper of your voice

In the footsteps that I take

I rage and rage…

But it makes no difference either way

Your eyes…smile…laugh… and touch

In the silence between the beatings of my heart

It will always be there

This I promise you my beloved friend:

That in the absence of you

I will remember you the most

What we had and the words that we spoke

I know now – I did discover the impossible

Your soul simply a reflection of mine

First raw and naive

And now the reason I am free

© 2012 Maria Fokas 


Break Free

Break Free by Maria Fokas

Break Free

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I can hear the cries of a story

Fumbling through the glory

Before I get out of her bed

Need to get her out of my head

She calls out my name

Stay with me, she said  

Nothing I can say to hide my pain

As I’m spinning in her web

Why do you walk alone?

I need to know, she said 


I can still hear the echo of her voice in my head

Death dares knocking on my door

I heard it all before

You feel it when you hit the floor

Too cruel to care – too cruel to know


I’m not alone you see

I’ve got her here with me dancing in my head

So don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong

Don’t talk to me about why she’s gone

I’ve heard it all before my friend

Just need to get out of bed

Without you knocking on my door


I’m stuck here but I’m not alone

Yes you see I’m spoken for

Just got to find my way back home

That’s all I can do that’s all I can own

Someone said she’s out there waiting for me

So you see there’s nothing more for you to see

Just a shadow of me trying to break free

© 2010 Maria Fokas / Break Free

Halcyon Days

Halcyon Days by Maria Fokas

To the seven daughters of Alcyoneus

Bear seven peaceful days in rime

Easing warm waves to winter sun

From hand of  Zeus and mouth of Hera

Planting seeds of lushness

In the hearts of sinless lovers

Passion needing no such reminder

From bright wings of kingfishers

Nostalgic flame tis longing pain  

Release the womb

For birth and pleasure

Hath visiting lands and oceans of myth

I welcome the goddesses of love

Whether she be Aphrodite or Danu

I willingly succumb to the latter 

Caged in his command

By undisclosed devotion

To my platonic lover

I yearn to taste his scent

My heart burns with his touch

With his juice of my desire

I risk life for a moments’ bliss

Bringing days of spring

To winter months – 

From ancient worlds

Carved in descendant  hearts

© 2014 Maria Fokas